


solid gold (and perfect to the touch)

by liionne



Series: my baby just cares for me [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Academy Awards, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bucky Barnes finally gets some god damn recognition, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Sequel, there are speeches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 13:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14619927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: Steve frowns softly - he hasn’t put his lenses in yet - lifting the phone up so he can read the text and almost dropping it once he does.Performance by an actor in a leading role nominees:Peter Parker in TORMENT (Marvel Movies Ltd.)Gabriel Jones in DARK REIGN (Doom Pictures)Johnny Storm in INHUMAN (Doom Pictures)T’Challa Kumkani in A NATION UNDER OUR FEET (Wakanda Distributions)James Barnes in SIBERIAN CELL (Marvel Movies Ltd.)





	solid gold (and perfect to the touch)

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a sequel to My baby don't care for shows (my baby just cares for me) so if you haven't read that first, I'd suggest doing that. You could probably read it as a standalone, though, if you were so inclined.

After a year of being together, Steve and Bucky have a routine. They eat breakfast together every morning, regardless of whether one of them isn't working, and only ever making exceptions if Bucky didn't get in til late after some flight home from somewhere far away. Usually, on those days, Steve takes the day off work and they eat breakfast at 2pm from the comfort of their bed, something Steve have a problem with, come to think of it.

But today they're sitting at the island, eating their respective breakfasts, Steve looking  at his work schedule and Bucky playing about on his phone when out of nowhere, Bucky starts to choke on his Lucky Charms.

“I told you that cereal would kill you,” Steve tuts around a bite of toast. “I thought it’d be the diabetes, but--”

“Steve.” There’s a quiver to Bucky’s voice, and Steve’s had snaps up, worrying that it’s fear, or worry, but then he sees the look in Bucky’s eyes. He’s excited. He’s already grinning. “Steve - fuck, look at this.”

Bucky slides his phone over; it’s the Oscar website. Steve frowns softly - he hasn’t put his lenses in yet - lifting the phone up so he can read the text and almost dropping it once he does.

> **_Performance by an actor in a leading role nominees:_ **

> _ Peter Parker in TORMENT (Marvel Movies Ltd.) _

> _ Gabriel Jones in DARK REIGN (Doom Pictures) _

> _ Johnny Storm in INHUMAN (Doom Pictures) _

> _ T’Challa Kumkani in A NATION UNDER OUR FEET (Wakanda Distributions) _

> _ James Barnes in SIBERIAN CELL (Marvel Movies Ltd.) _

 

An oscar nomination. Steve nearly drops the phone. He looks up at Bucky, who looks absolutely giddy, and then he about launches himself over the table so that he can hug him tightly. Bucky's bowl of lucky charms is a casualty in his excitement, falling to the floor and spraying milk everywhere.

Neither of them care; Steve hugs him tightly, Bucky clinging to him in turn, equal parts laughing and crying. “Maybe this time you'll actually win, huh?” Steve teases, pulling back to grin st Bucky.

“Jerk.” He accuses, but he kisses Steve anyway. “As punishment, you can clean up the cereal you knocked over.”

They don't get very long to prepare before the big night; good job they already had two Wanda Maximoff Fall/Winter suits commissioned back when they were just plain ol’ invited. Steve hadn't been invited, of course, but the invitation had read  _ James Barnes + 1 _ , which Bucky maintains is  _ James Barnes + Steve Rogers _ , and so Steve doesn't argue.

The suits are expensive; they don't fight about it, because they've already had fights like this a few times before - fights in which Steve refuses to let Bucky pay for something, and then Bucky makes a whole bunch of points about Steve being stubborn and Bucky having the money and wanting to treat his best guy, and eventually they come to some sort of truce when Bucky agrees to let Steve lay the next months rent and grocery bills in return - but Steve does feel sort of out of place in his thousand dollar suit. 

At least it's not too flashy; jet black, with gold lining the lapels and the cuffs and the tie; Bucky's is the same, only in silver. The fact that they match makes Steve equal parts sick and giddy.

“You gonna write a speech?” Steve asks, a few days before the proceedings.

“No.” Bucky answers, not bothering to take his eyes away from  _ The Bachelor _ .

Steve frowns, sidling up to him, swinging his legs into bucks lap. Like a reflex, Bucky moves to rest one hand on steve’s calf, warm against his bare skin. “Why not?”

“I wrote a speech last time and I didn't win.” Bucky says, like that makes some sort of sense. For the record, it doesn't. 

“So, what - if you don't write a speech, your gonna win?” Steve asks. Maybe Bucky's lost it in all of the excitement.

“No,” Bucky says my squeezing Steve's thigh in a way that suggests that he knows exactly what Steve's thinking. “But it might make it more likely, I dunno.”

Steve hadn't taken Bucky for the superstitious type, but he decides not to argue. Steve doesn't think he has anything to worry about vis-a-vis winning (anyone with any ounce of sense is going to vote for him, obviously), but whatever makes him feel better, Steve supposes. 

~*~

Bucky was nervous on the flight over to LA, and he's nervous when they wake up in the morning. He's nervous through breakfast, through lunch, and he's still nervous when Sharon arrives with a small team of people who are tasked with helping them get ready. Steve maintains that he's been able to get ready himself since he was about 5, but that just earns him a snort as he's pushed toward the make-shift salon set up in the corner of their hotel room.

Bucky didn't write an acceptance speech, but he  _ did _ write one for the award that he's presenting: best supporting actress, not an insignificant category by any means.

“What if I trip up? What if I say the wrong name. Oh, God,” Bucky groans. “I'm gonna fuck it up, Stevie,"

“No you're not.” Steve says, smoothing out the lapels of Bucky's suit and smiling softly. “I know you, Buck. You're gonna be fine, You're a charmer. They're all gonna love you, just like I do.”

“They're gonna yell at me for eating nice cereal and steal my hoodies?” 

Steve grins, leaning up a little to kiss Bucky softly, hand settling gently on his neck. He knows he's nervous, but he can see that he's excited, too - Steve just has to tap into that side of him. 

“Boys,” Sharon says, as if she's some kind of grandmother, when in reality she can't be that much older than Steve, if it all. “Car’s ready.”

Steve takes Bucky's hand and leads him downstairs. Bucky needs him to be the brave one for once, so he's damn well going to do it.

~*~

He isn't feeling so brave when they step onto the red carpet, though, and are promptly blinded by about 3000 cameras. Steve's pretty blind to begin with, though, and hey, the more blind he gets the less he'll actually be able to see the people waving for Bucky's attention, taking photographs of the two of them, looking at him. Seems like a win.

He's distracted from his worrying by Bucky's hand slotting into his, fingers lacing together. “I know.” He murmurs.

“Know what?” Steve challenges. Is Bucky psychic now?

“It's a lot.” He says. A lot is an understatement. The premiere for  _ Siberian Cell _ was a lot. Like jumping in the deep end without knowing how to swim. This - this, arguably, is too much. Like not knowing how to swim, and being thrown into the fucking ocean.

But Steve is being brave. For Bucky. He can see that he's still nervous, and he knows he can't rid him of those nerves entirely, but he can still help.

It's a laboriously low process, getting from one end of the carpet to the other. Everyone wants an interview with Bucky, everyone wants to take his photograph. Steve hangs back with Sharon, who tries to direct Bucky as best she can.

“How come you're so calm?” He asks her, after about ten minutes of Bucky standing in front of cameramen and charming the bejewelled pants off of their interviewers. 

Sharon gives him a knowing smile. “Three tequila shots in the car on the way to your hotel room.” She answers.

Steve curses. Why didn't he think of that?

Steve is content to wait out the photo ops and the posing, but Bucky gives him a look that only can be described as beseeching, so Steve goes over to him, letting Bucky pull him in against his side. Steve doesn't mind, really; they'd done this much at the premier, all those months ago.

Once inside, everything is a little bit more calm. They were actually a little late; there's enough time to grab a glass of champagne before they're ushered to their seats, Bucky saying hello to his various co-stars before the lights fall, and the host takes the stage.

The thing is, Steve had never really cared about the oscars. He went to an oscars party once, in college maybe, but all they did was play drinking games and make fun of the whole proceedings. It's grandiose. Bougie. At times it feels so forced, so staged, even more staged than it evidently is.

He loves it. He can't put his finger on what about it is getting him, but he finds that the time flies. When they cut to the commercial break just before Bucky is due to present, he can't believe it's come around so fast. Steve pecks Bucky's cheek before he stands up, and smiles softly. “You're gonna do great.” He smiles. “Go on, you'll be back here before you know it.”

Bucky gives him a small, nervous smile, and then he disappears. Steve settles back in his seat, content to play on his phone for a while, until someone turns around in the seat in front of him. 

“Hey,” The guy says - Clint Barton. Steve's done his homework here, see. “You James’ boy?”

“Nope, just a very tactile seat filler.” Steve says, because his automatic response is to aim for sarcasm, but then he remembers that he's talking to a fucking movie star and his blushes a little. “I mean--”

“Hey, if that's true how come he's the only one getting some?” 

Now Steve is blushing even more.

“Kidding, dude. How'd you meet?”

So Steve spends the break talking to Clint, who seems to be a really cool guy; Steve is almost disappointed when the lights go down, but then he remembers that it's Bucky's turn to present, and he sits up a little in his seat.

Bucky doesn't look half as nervous as he had when he was sitting next to Steve, his expression carefully schooled into something easy-going and charismatic. Steve really fucking loves him, watching him up on that stage, doing his best even though Steve can see the slight tremble of his hand as he puts the paper down on the podium.

“Everyone knows that there are no small parts, and more often than not, in our favourite Hollywood movies, the supporting characters are the ones that help to carry the story. The phenomenal women nominated tonight for Best a Supporting Actress prove that our supporting characters are often our most beloved, and our most commanding. Here are the nominees,”

He delivers the lines so carefully, so seriously; it looks… Professional. It's not Bucky, maybe, but it's good, for the setting. The tone is right.

He reads the names of the nominees as they appear in the well-cut montage, and when it ends, looks from the screen to the crowd with a dazzling smile. “I think that montage was better than my entire career,” he says, and then seems to realise just  _ what _ he's said, eyes widening infinitesimally. There's laughter, though, and his surprise settles into an easy kind of smile as he reaches for the envelope. Now  _ that’s _ Bucky. Steve can't help but grin a little. 

Carol Danvers wins, and she sweeps up the stage in her gorgeous gown, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Bucky and the Oscar she evidently deserves. Steve isn't watching her, though, something he'll feel bad for later, maybe. He's watching Bucky, who doesn't seem so nervous now.

He returns to his seat a few minutes later, his cheeks pink. “I can't believe I said that,” he groans, flopping down next to Steve.

“Are you kidding? They loved it, Buck.” Steve whispers, squeezing his hand. “Told you, didn't I?”

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he smiles when Steve kisses his cheek once again, settling into his seat to enjoy the proceedings for a while.

Before long, though, they've come around to it - best actor. Bucky is practically vibrating beside him, despite how often he to,d Steve that winning didn't matter, it was nice to be nominated, etc etc. Steve knows that he wants to win. Who in their right mind  _ wouldn't  _ want to win?

The award is presented by Janet Van Dyn, who makes a wonderful speech before they play the montage, but Steve isn't listening to her, or looking at the screen. He's looking at Bucky. He wants to say something funny, something to take the edge off his nerves, but he can't think of anything. He doesn't think news the right time anyway, so he just holds Bucky's hand, thumb rubbing back and forward over his knuckles. The montage ends, and Janet reaches for the envelope, tearing it open and briefly pausing, smiling at the piece of paper.

“James Barnes, Siberian Cell,” she announces.

Before Steve even has time to process it he's swept into what might be one of the single hardest, happiest,  _ best _ (and unfortunately brief) kisses of his life. Bucky trips over himself on his way up to the stage, running a hand somewhat shakily through his hair. He doesn't even have a speech, Steve remembers, about the same time Bucky takes the podium and looks him dead in the eyes, across a room full of people, and says, “I really wish I'd wrote that speech, Stevie.”

Steve thinks his face might split in two if he smiles any wider. He's so fucking proud of him he could burst.

“I, jeez, I don't even know where to start, I know I haven't got long,” he shakes his head, hand wrapped around the base of the statue. “Just. Thank you. Thank you to everyone, to my ma for not kicking me out when I told her I wanted to be an actor, to my publicist, for putting up with me, for everyone who gave me a chance. T’Challa, Gabe, Peter, Johnny - you guys are all phenomenal actors, and I - I don't even know what to say, you should all be up here too.” The music begins to play, and an usher appears by Steve's side, asking him very politely to follow him backstage. “Thank you!” He hears Bucky call, before he grabs his award and exits the stage, free hand still running through his hair.

Steve is taken backstage to meet Bucky, who’s watching someone engrave his name onto one of the golden statues, looking like he can’t believe his eyes. Steve doesn’t hesitate for a single second, closing the distance between them as fast as he can (not fast enough, fuck, he hates being short) and grabbing bucky, kissing him hard. Bucky tenses for a split second before he realises that it’s steve, and then he grins against his lips, hands settled on steve’s hips beneath his blazer. A camera snaps behind them and steve finds that, actually, he doesn’t care. He just wants to kiss his boyfriend, the  _ Academy Award Winner _ . If someone wants to take photos, well - he might just get it fucking framed.

“I told you to write a speech, idiot.” Steve grins against his lips.

“And I told  _ you _ ,” Bucky says, knocking his forehead gently against Steve’s. “If I’d have written a speech, I wouldn’t have won.”

“Idiot.” Steve repeats, kissing him before Bucky can think to argue.

There are only two categories left before the ceremony officially ends, but Bucky has to go and get some photos taken with his award and answer a few questions, and Steve is loathe to leave him behind. Why would he want to watch the end, anyway? He’s got what he came for: he watched Bucky present, he watched Bucky win. Check, check. He could quite happily go home right now.

But he knows Bucky doesn’t want to. They kick around in the after party, Bucky happily accepting glass after glass of champagne until at one point, he stops, reaching for a glass of water instead. 

“What, you getting sick of champagne already, Mr. Big Shot?” Steve teases, knocking Bucky’s shoulder with his own.

“No,” Bucky says, haughtily. Steve hates him. Loves him. “But I  _ do _ have plans to celebrate tonight with my best guy, and I don’t want anything hindering my plans - even  _ really fucking good _ champagne.”

Steve, a slave to his own biology, blushes furiously. Bucky grins at him. “Let’s get outta here.” He grins, snaking through the crowd to find Sharon so he can ask her to get them a cab.

~*~

By the morning, the world has somehow managed to put two and two together -  _ Stevie _ , and then the photo of them kissing, and then the photos from the premiere, had somehow been enough for people to find his profile on his work website, and his old freelance site from college. Steve has no idea how they managed it, and when he tells Bucky, Bucky just shrugs. “Internet.” He says. He pauses. They’d ordered enough room service to feed the entire floor, and Bucky had been steadily working his way through it until his brain had apparently caught up with him. “Does it bother you?”

Steve pauses long enough to worry him just a little, and then shakes his head. “Nah. It was gonna happen sometime. And anyway, like I’m gonna break up with an  _ Academy Award Winner _ just because a few people know my name.”

“The whole world.” bucky mumbles around a mouthful of pancakes.

“You think a lot of yourself.” Steve snorts. “And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Yes ma.” Bucky snickers, sticking his tongue out at steve.  _ Gross _ . Academy Award winner, sure. Absolute jerk, definitely. “Hey, maybe now Sharon’ll let me have my Golden Globe back. Poor guy’s gonna be lonely on his own.” He adds, patting the statuette on the head.

“Promise me you won’t try to gamble with this one,” Steve says, shifting into Bucky’s lap.

“I make no such promise.” Bucky declares, leaning in to kiss Steve, slow and sweet. Steve knows he doesn’t mean it. Or at least he hopes so, anyway.

He has a feeling the statuette will end up at Sharon’s office right alongside the Globe before the end of the week.

**Author's Note:**

> So I was originally going to combine this with the third part of this series, as their timeline is sort of overlapping, but then I decided to separate them out. I hope it was worth a little extra detail, and I hope you all enjoyed. Thanks for reading!


End file.
